


"Do you want a taco?"

by PleaseDontFindThisMom



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: But like not not canon compliant either, Friends to Lovers, Hopeful Ending, I mention canon typical violence, Light Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Peter is Legal, Pining, and hint at torture, and rapists, but I don't specify his age (just that he's in school) so if you want underage go off I guess, but it's not horrid enough to make the rating go up, expect not really (you will see)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27383683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleaseDontFindThisMom/pseuds/PleaseDontFindThisMom
Summary: Peter musing about how his relationship with Wade has progressed
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 63





	"Do you want a taco?"

The first time I saw you, I was in the middle of a fight. You came by, eating taco, and we locked eyes.

I saw your lips moving, but couldn’t make out your words, so I just continued fighting. After I was done, you were already gone.

Much later I learned what you had said.

“Do you want a taco?”

~~~

Next time I saw you I could take my time to properly look at you, take in the red-black leather suit, your strong structure, your animated hands and expressions.

You told me your name and it was a name I had heard many times before, along with warnings to stay away from you.

But you offered to buy hamburgers and I had only two dollars in my wallet.

Deadpool.

That was the first time we talked.

~~~

We sat on a rooftop, you were talking about llamas and people who eat salad. I was laughing, entranced by your story. By your voice. By you.

You were kicking your legs, swinging them over the city and I looked down.

Nobody was looking up at us.

~~~

After a hard fight, you tended my wounds. Your hands were gentle and your touch smooth despite the scars covering them.

There were Disney songs playing on the background, and you sang along to every single one.

When you sang  _ How Far I’ll Go _ I realized that I really liked you.

You were my best friend.

~~~

When I told you my secret identity, you almost fainted. I had to catch you and hold you up as you pretended you were swoon.

You told me I had the prettiest eyes.

I dropped you down and you wailed betrayal.

All while I was looking up, desperately trying to hide my smile.

(I knew you knew I was smiling.)

~~~

We grew closer and closer. I don’t think anyone knew about me as much as you did. You could have impersonated me, that’s how well you knew me.

And I could tell your ten favorite restaurants and food stalls, your top 50 movies in order and your whole life story by heart.

The closeness should have freaked me out (I should have remembered that people close to me get hurt) but instead it made me smile.

~~~

When I told you I was in love, you shattered inside.

I could hear it in your heartbeat, in the shivering of your voice, could see it in the slight waver of your hands.

But you put on a front, congratulated me before leaving.

When you left, I felt shattered also.

I just didn't know why.

~~~

I was in love. 

But she didn’t matter.

Because when we were trapped in a burning building and you grabbed my hand, desperately trying to reassure me,

I understood that you were the most important person to me.

~~~

We were standing on the rooftop when I told you I had broken up with the girl.

You consoled me.

Little did you know that I wasn’t mournful, that I hadn’t broken my heart.

I hadn’t broken my heart, because I had you.

~~~

Dad freaked out when he heard how close we were. He warned me over and over again about you. Told me all about your dark deeds, ruthless ways and psychotic personality.

The funny thing was, that some of the things he told me - that weren’t about your personality - were true. I just didn’t care.

I knew it all already, you had told me yourself.

I knew it and I looked past them at you and what you were to me, what you were with me.

And that was much more important to me than anything you could have done.

It still is.

~~~

We were playing Mario Kart in your apartment. Sitting side by side, elbowing one another in vain effort to win.

When I crossed the finish line first, I jumped up cheering.

You just looked at me like I was everything that mattered in this world.

And when I met your eyes, I wondered if what I felt for you was truly only platonic.

~~~

We were fighting some petty criminals, when you asked if I loved you.

I answered that of course I do, you are my best friend (didn’t know what else to say, I didn’t know if I felt anything more).

You looked at me, sadness evident even behind the mask, and told me to take time to think what I really wanted.

That night I didn’t sleep.

~~~

Three weeks later I was scrolling through Pinterest and there was a gif of you.

It was not good in quality, but watching you strolling down the street with three cats and tuba in your hands,

that made me realize that I did love you.

That I was utterly, mind shatteringly, very much non-platonically in love with you.

~~~

Later that night I was pacing around my room, panicking.

After all I had just realized I was in love with my most important person.

When I heard a baby screaming three stories down and someone singing softly, calming her…

That was when I calmed down.

I loved you.

I love you.

~~~

But I never got to say any of that to you.

You were kidnapped, taken, and I never got to say that I love you. Nobody could find you, you dropped off the radar.

I cried myself to sleep for weeks.

~~~

I was shocked when I realized how big a part you were in my life. How my life had slowly but surely started forming orbits around you (were you the same way?).

Without you my life started to feel emptier, empty in a way that was suffocating.

My friends were worried about me. Dad was worried about me. My whole family was worried about me.

But all I was worried about was you. 

I wondered, would you come back? Would you ever come back to fill my life with colors only you had the paint for?

~~~

Two weeks and five days after you disappeared, someone mentioned you at school. It was something about a rapist you killed two years ago.

And I broke down.

I started crying in the middle of the hallway, shedding tears all over myself.

Because that’s when I knew what I wanted.

I wanted to be with you.

I wanted to  _ be _ with you.

_ I wanted to be with  _ **_you_ ** .

~~~

When you came back, you didn’t remember me (still don’t remember me).

Your brain cells had been damaged in ways that couldn’t be simply repaired because nothing was broken, nothing was missing, things just refused to work.

But that’s fine.

Because you  ~~ were ~~ are here.

Because I know what I want.

Because we can try again.

(Maybe we can try again?)

So when I saw you for the first time again, I asked

“Do you want a taco?”

**Author's Note:**

> It is bitter to realize that you will never feel ready to post a fic, even after editing it several times.
> 
> In situations like that, I advice: just post the fic. Never ending editing is not going to make it feel ready.


End file.
